


Caught

by YlvaUllsdotter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 18+, Amazon, Anal Sex, Bondage, Dean Winchester - Freeform, Eileen's Make It Dirty Challenge, F/M, Mating, Pegging, Porn, Smut, Strap-On, Sub!Dean, Teasing, Tumblr, Tumblr Challenge, Woman on Top, bottom!Dean, dub-con, gif
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 18:19:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13840359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YlvaUllsdotter/pseuds/YlvaUllsdotter
Summary: Dean has another run-in with an Amazon, several years after Lydia. This one is a little more hands on and Dean...kinda likes it.





	Caught

**Author's Note:**

> Written for @squirrel-moose-winchester's Make It Dirty gif challenge on Tumblr. Prompt was the gif in the story. Mind the tags. I apologize for nothing.

It had been years since Lydia, and Dean had long since stopped worrying about Amazons when picking up women, so he was completely unprepared when his latest work out partner threw him around like a rag doll. Before he had time to react (later he would blame the alcohol along with his mind being on other things), he was pressed up against a cement block wall, his cheek against the cool material. At the unmistakable sound of a blade being unsheathed, he tried to glance behind him, but could only catch shadows in the periphery of his field of vision.

“We’re not supposed to expose ourselves, but I think this is a special occasion. Dean Winchester himself. You’ll make a good enough mate, and afterwards...well, I’ll make it quick.” She was almost purring and he could hear her heels clicking on the bare floor as she moved closer.

He pulled on the restraints, but they were actual iron manacles, snug around his wrists. The chains looked sturdy as well, fastened to iron plates bolted to the wall. For once, he failed to think of a witty rejoinder. He could, however, feel the sweat dampening his forehead as the blade started slicing through the layers of cloth covering him.

“I’m going to enjoy this, Dean. I’ll take my time with you. See, I like to play with my toys, but I so rarely get to completely enjoy myself, superior strength and all. Most men break so easily. I think you’ll be able to endure my attentions though.” Her voice was husky with anticipation, and she thoroughly enjoyed feeling her blade slice through the cloth. Even more, she enjoyed the sight of Dean’s skin being exposed to her. He really did have freckles everywhere, she was discovering.

Dean started to say something, but her fingers covered his mouth, pressing into those lusciously plump lips.

“Sshh. Don’t speak. Just enjoy it while you can.”

He grunted, frowning in annoyance that he was unable to figure a way out of this situation. His only hope now was that Sam would realize something was wrong and come looking for him, and the chance of that was slim, since they had had no indication of anything supernatural. This town was supposed to be just a rest stop on their way home from another case.

As his clothes fell away, sliced to rags, Dean shivered in the cool air. In spite of himself, he found he was enjoying the touch of her hands on his skin. He felt completely exposed and vulnerable, spread out as he was. The only piece of clothing left to him were his socks and boots and he was glad for even that little. He heard the blade clatter slightly as she laid it on the floor, replacing the cool metal with her warm hands. They were everywhere, touching, exploring, finding all the spots that made him gasp or moan, or both. Soft caresses alternated with lightly scratching fingernails and he found himself shivering for a completely different reason.

When her hands slid around to his front, one of them wrapping around his length, he realized he was fully erect, somewhat to his surprise. Her touch drew a low moan from him, and she chuckled darkly.

“See, I knew you’d enjoy yourself.” Her voice was a breath ghosting over his cheek. She kept one hand on his shaft, stroking him almost excruciatingly slowly. Her other hand slid back around to his nicely rounded ass where she squeezed and teased until he was up on his toes, panting.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered the ‘snick’ of a bottle cap opening and moments later he felt her slick fingers probe at his rear entrance. He tensed and tried to protest, but just then she did a thing with her fingers on his cock and the words he meant to say turned into a wanton growl.

His chest heaving, Dean leaned his forehead on the cold concrete wall, desperately seeking some sort of grounding focus against the pleasures assaulting him. Her fingers were surprisingly gentle as they circled his tightly puckered muscle. Every so often they would dip down and brush over his prostate from the outside and each time he felt as if sparks of static electricity flowed through his veins. Almost in spite of himself, he felt his muscles start to relax. If he was completely honest with himself, he was more than a little aroused and maybe a bit curious about where she was so obviously going.

Her strokes had slowed, since she wanted him to last. She only gave him enough to keep him hard and on edge while she prepared him. She had very specific plans for Dean Winchester, and she wanted to draw it out as long as she possibly could. She moved her hand from his cock down to tease his balls, rolling them in her fingers, putting just enough pressure on them to make him breathe harder. In her experience, a little fear would only heighten his pleasure, which would make it so much sweeter for her.

Dean was up on his toes again, his mind swimming with too many impressions coming at him all at once. She had slipped one finger inside him, and was moving it slowly in and out, brushing over his prostate every time and he felt like he was about to explode. The slight discomfort when she added another finger quickly passed. His whole world had narrowed to that one feeling of exquisite pleasure every time she hit that spot inside him. Later, he could analyze, for now he let himself just feel. When she added a third finger, he was arching his back and actually attempting to thrust back, to feel her go deeper. It felt so good, he was unable to form coherent thoughts, and when she withdrew her fingers he let out a whimper of disappointment that might have embarrassed him if he had thought about it.

Once again, he tried to glance behind himself, but he still could only see her as a shadow in his periphery. He could make no sense of the snapping sounds, and now that her hands were not touching him anymore, he allowed himself to worry just a little bit.

When her touch returned, it was her hands coming to rest on his hips, her fingers pressed against his hip bones. She pulled him backwards at the same time she pushed her own hips toward him and he felt the weight of the dildo as it nestled in the crack between his butt cheeks. All the thoughts and emotions rushing through his mind made his head spin. His instinct was to pull away, object, protest, this was not something he was into. And yet, her fingers had made him feel so good, better than he had ever felt before. His curiosity won out and he held still while her hands slipped to his ass, squeezing and spreading him open for her. His hands found the chains attaching the manacles around his wrists to the wall, and he wrapped his fingers around the cold, rough metal, while leaning his forehead against the wall.

She took note of every little thing he did, every small reaction, from his shallower breath to the way he almost unconsciously arched his back, making his ass press against the strap-on. Every detail added another jolt of pleasure for her, and as much as she wanted to drag this out, she absolutely needed her silicone cock to be inside Dean Winchester’s ass right now. Spreading him open for her, she took just a brief moment to appreciate the way his hole fluttered as he anticipated the invasion. Lining up, she applied a steady, implacable pressure, and the dildo, liberally lubricated, slipped in half way in the first slow thrust. She held still for a moment, giving him an opportunity to adjust, before she pulled out almost all the way and pushed back in, half an inch deeper.

Dean’s mind was a whirlpool of emotions and impressions. The feeling of the strap-on dragging against his walls was strange, but after her preparations it didn’t hurt. There was a bit of a stretch, a slight burn, but it felt amazing. Then she hit the spot and his vision almost whited out. On each thrust into him, there was a jolt that went directly to his cock, and every slow pull out dragged almost painfully over that same spot. He was unaware of how tightly he was gripping the chains, all his focus on that one point, where they were joined, and on remembering to breathe.

The way his breath hitched on each inhale, his knuckles white where he gripped the chains, the feeling of his skin meeting hers with each thrust, small drops of sweat beading on his neck and dampening the short hairs there, the scent of his arousal; all the sensations coming at her combined to push her toward her release faster than she would like to admit. Dean Winchester may be a Hunter, and thus an enemy, but he was certainly delicious right here in this moment, taking her cock like a pro. Each thrust pressed the vibrating attachment hard against her clit, and before long she had established a rhythm of pulling out quickly and thrusting back in slowly to enjoy maximum stimulation. Her hot breath fanned over his sweat-dampened skin as she chased her release.

When she came, Dean was lost in the pleasure, not even caring if he reached his own climax as long as this bliss continued forever. Before he had time to react, pleasure clouding his mind to the point of feeling almost like he had been drugged, she had unlocked the manacles and relocked them again after turning him around to face the room. In some hidden part of his mind, Dean found her display of strength and dexterity incredibly arousing and his cock twitched in response.

While she removed the strap-on, Dean had the opportunity to admire her incredible body. She was obviously strong, but instead of defined muscles her body was all curves, in all the right places. He found himself wishing he could taste her, to pleasure her with his lips and tongue and fingers, and to watch her come undone. His fingers flexed in reaction to his thoughts and his tongue flicked out to wet his lips.

She took a moment to just admire the sight of Dean Winchester in the grip of desire, his skin flushed and green eyes dark with lust. When he licked his lips, she closed the distance between them and crushed her lips to his. She ran her tongue along his bottom lip, sucking it between her teeth and biting down slightly, following with her tongue to soothe the bite before slipping in between his lips and claiming his mouth for her own.

Dean felt like he was underwater, swimming in a sea of pleasure. Not even caring that she meant to kill him after she was done with him, he happily let her claim his mouth, enjoying the way she took control of him so effortlessly. When one of her hands carded through his damp hair, fisting a handful and pulling hard enough that it was just over the line to painful, he let out an almost desperate groan, muffled by her kiss. He was vaguely aware that his hips were thrusting toward her, searching for any kind of friction to get him over the edge.

She released his mouth only so she could enjoy the sounds he was making as she manhandled him. One hand in his hair, pulling his head back and exposing his throat to her teeth and lips, while the other was teasing his balls, drawing strangled groans and whimpers from him, until finally her need to feel him inside her overcame her desire to play with him. Lifting one leg, she wrapped it around his waist while she lined him up with her soaking wet sex. Their groans mingled as she thrust her hips forward, taking in every inch of him and reveling in the stretch as he filled her completely.

He bit his bottom lip, hard. The feeling of her warm wet folds enveloping his whole length was almost too much, and he was afraid he may not last. And he desperately wanted this to last longer, he wanted to please this strong, assertive woman almost more than anything. For a moment, they were both completely still, his length buried to the hilt in her velvety folds, both of them feeling every inch, every throb, every twitch. Then she moved, pulling back until he almost slipped out of her, and he held his breath. When her hips thrust back toward him, taking him back into her, he ground his own hips forward and up, hoping to enhance her pleasure. Her small grunt of pleasure shot straight to his cock, and he answered with his own little moan.

She was the one setting the pace, and he was happy to let her. Slow dragging thrusts drove him almost insane with desire and when she sped up he let out a needy whimper. Over and over she drove his cock into her, angling her hips to hit the right spot just so, while she sucked and nibbled on the exposed and stretched skin of his throat. He felt certain she was marking him, putting big dark marks along his skin, and he found he liked the thought of that.

Once again he was gripping the chains hard, trying to hold back, wanting to give her pleasure first. It was so obvious to her, and it only made it that much better, but she was almost there, and she wanted him to come inside her. After all, that was the whole point of this exercise, she thought to herself with a small smirk.

“Come on, Dean...come inside me...fill me up…”, she whispered against his ear, flicking her tongue along the outside of it. Her free hand slipped around behind him and she pushed one finger inside him. With a strangled cry, Dean shot his load into her, dragging her with him over the edge. For a long while, the only sound in the room were their mingled breaths, heavy and fast, panting for air.

They were still locked in their embrace when the heavy steel door banged open, clanging against the opposite wall. Dean only had time to see the gigantic shadow backlit by the fluorescent lights in the hallway outside. The warmth of her body left him as she launched herself at Sam with a shout. A gunshot rang out and the echo of it covered the sound of her body hitting the floor.

Everything after that happened so fast, Dean could never remember the exact sequence of events. Somehow, Sam got him down from the chains and out of the building and back to the motel they had been staying at. No words were exchanged between them as Dean got cleaned up and into bed. He was vaguely aware of Sam, but mainly he was in his own head, processing.

The next day passed in silence as well, Sam driving them back to the Bunker. Dean disappeared into his room, although he left the door unlocked.

* * *

Two days later, as Sam was trawling the internet for new cases, Dean shuffled into the Library, hair on end, dead-guy-robe thrown over a t-shirt and boxers. Sam looked up at his brother silently, waiting for Dean to speak.

“How did you know?” Dean’s voice was rusty from disuse, his tone somehow both confused and curious all at once.

Sam shrugged and looked down at the laptop before responding.

“I was scanning recent local news and came across the same pattern as in Seattle a few years back. When I went to the bar, the bartender told me you left with some woman, and I tracked your cell. A condemned apartment building didn’t seem like the place you’d go for a hook up, so I went to check it out.” He looked up at Dean as he finished speaking, his expression uncertain, as if he was afraid Dean was going to yell at him.

Dean stood there silently for a few moments, his gaze on his brother, but unfocused. Finally he blinked, looked down at the floor and nodded.

“Thanks.”, was all he said, before he turned around and shuffled back to his room.


End file.
